


It

by Polomonkey



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Deepthroating, Dubious Consentacles, M/M, Or vines at least, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 10:30:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6191566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polomonkey/pseuds/Polomonkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin encounters some sentient vines out in the forest. They take quite a liking to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rowanbrandybuck](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowanbrandybuck/gifts).



> I heard it was recently your birthday Rowan! Like a great friend, I bring you disgusting and dubious porn. Enjoy! <3
> 
> Also written for the Tavern Tales theme auditions/assignments/applications. Please read the tags and play it safe if it doesn't look like your kind of thing.

“Your assignment is to bring it in alive,” Commander Uther says, his face grim.

Whatever _it_ is, Merlin thinks. No-one really knows yet. All they’ve heard officially so far is that K Squad encountered some trouble on manoeuvres in the Westlands and the beast responsible must be apprehended.

Unofficially, the rumour is that what happened to K Squad wasn’t as straightforward as a creature attack. The fact that none of them went to the infirmary but were sent straight on a week’s leave is also suspicious. In addition to the fact that Mordred swears he saw Corporal Greene and Corporal Knight return that same night looking dazed and happy as opposed to beaten and traumatised.

In any case, the G Squad has been tasked with tracking it down. They’re the best team in the company, and Merlin has to grudgingly admit at least part of that’s down to Arthur Pendragon’s leadership. Not that he’d say that to the prat’s face. His ego is swollen enough as it is.

But despite Merlin’s near constant irritation with Arthur, he trusts him with his life. When they set out that afternoon, he doesn’t feel afraid in the slightest.

They’ve faced worse than this before, whatever this is. They’ll bring it back in, whatever it takes.

He tries to hold on to this feeling of invulnerability when he’s alone on watch that night and hears what can only be described as an extremely suspicious noise not a hundred metres away.

He debates waking the others but then he remembers the time Mordred had them all up and armed at 4am to tackle what turned out to be two foxes having noisy sex. Best to take a peek for himself first, before he rouses the whole troop.

They’re camping in the Westlands forest, close to the edge. But a sound came from a little deeper in and so Merlin tracks quietly through to the next clearing along, stun gun in hand.

He braces himself as he steps out from behind a tree, body poised to attack. But the clearing is empty. Nothing but a horde of thick green vines, tangled together, covering the trees and the ground underfoot.

Merlin prowls around the perimeter carefully, ears alert to any sound of danger. But there isn’t so much as a peep.

He turns back towards camp, admonishing himself for being so jumpy. It had probably been another fox.

Then he skids forward, nearly falling over.

He looks down to realise he’s somehow managed to get his foot tangled in one of the thick green vines. He pulls it out in irritation and steps away. But his other foot is held back.

Merlin swears, pulling upwards. For a second, he has the curious sensation that the vine has tightened around him. But then his foot springs free so violently that it knocks him off balance and he trips. His gun slides out of his hands and skids away to hit a tree.

Embarrassed, Merlin lifts himself to his hands and knees, glad Arthur wasn’t around to see that one. Perhaps this whole mission had been ill advised. He’s made enough noise with that graceless fall to summon any creature in a five mile radius but none have appeared. Whatever happened to K Squad, it must have been a fluke.

Shaking his head a little, he moves to stand.

But he can’t.

His hands are knotted to the ground, wrapped tight by the thick green vines that surround him. Merlin tries to tug free and watches as they unmistakably, horrifyingly, curl tighter around him.

They’re alive.

Or rather, they’re sentient. And they’ve set their sights on him.

Merlin’s training kicks in and he twists his wrists upwards, trying to find the angle to free himself. It’s worked on handcuffs before but they couldn’t move and the vines only cling on harder.

He kicks out with his feet, hoping to gain leverage, but two vines simply wrap around his ankles to hold him in place. Panicking, he digs his nails into the vines curling eagerly round his fingers – _can this thing feel pain?_ – but to no avail.

He breathes for a second, trying desperately to think.

Then the thing hoists him up in the air.

He shouts in surprise as the vines retract from his ankles, but he isn’t left dangling by his hands, another vine’s snaked round his midsection, another round his shoulder, holding him up.

He kicks out uselessly, touching nothing but air.

_What does it want? What did it do to K Squad?_

Because surely this is the creature they encountered, there could be no doubt. Yet they came back alive. Unhurt, even, if Mordred is to be believed. So what had happened to-

His train of thought is cut off in the most terrible way possible.

The vines are pulling off his trousers.

One thin tendril has worked open his belt buckle and several others are tugging at the hems. Merlin kicks up again but it’s no use, there’s too many vines and they’re too well organised. The trousers slip off and fall to the forest floor.

His boxers are next. He struggles harder than before but two vines drag them off as if they were nothing. Worse still, they barely waste a second before snaking up his body, tugging at his top. But the combat vest is harder to tear away and Merlin experiences a moment of vicious satisfaction before his world turns upside down.

Quick as a flash, the vines drop his hands and catch him by his ankles before he hits the ground. It knocks the breath out of him and he can only dangle, helplessly, as they make short work of pulling his vest down and off his unresisting body.

He’s flipped back over again when they finish and he moans, dizzy and sick. It takes a while for his vision to clear and when it does the inescapable fact of his nakedness hits him like a truck.

_Why have they stripped him?_

_And what happens now?_

He’s aware of being tilted backwards slightly and suddenly there are vines at his back, spreading and interlacing to form some kind of lattice that he’s gently pushed onto. It’s like he’s being cradled in the world’s strangest hammock but it takes the strain off his ankles and wrists and for one bizarre moment he feels almost safe.

Then a vine presses up against his mouth.

Merlin bites back a yell, because that would be the worst possible thing to do when he knows beyond a doubt that this vine wants to get inside him. He seals his lips together instead. The vine taps against his closed mouth, and he realises with a shudder that it’s leaving some kind of faintly sticky substance on him.

The vine taps more insistently. Merlin shakes his head.

The tapping pauses and Merlin feels a moment of short lived triumph, before another vine closes around his naked cock.

He screams in shock and the first vine takes its opportunity to slip inside his opened mouth. He gags, even though it’s not as big as some of the vines he can see around him, perhaps only the width of a ruler. But it feels huge inside his mouth and wet too, he baulks in horror but he can’t stop his tongue from brushing up against it…

It tastes good and that might be the worst part of all. The stickiness is faintly sugary, yet sour in aftertaste, and it appeals to his palate in a way he can’t really understand. It sits heavy on his tongue and for a moment nothing happens, the vines cradling him in place.

Then it begins to thrust. He chokes momentarily, not expecting the way the vine retracts almost completely from his mouth and then pushes itself back in, suddenly feeling much larger than before. He coughs around it but it gives no quarter, shoving itself in and out, picking up speed on every insertion.

It’s fucking his mouth. A vine is _throat-fucking him._

Speaking of throats, it goes further with every thrust, until it’s reached the back of his mouth. He hasn’t deep-throated since uni and he panics now, limbs struggling in protest as the vine forces its way deeper. It stops for a moment and he dares to hope for a reprieve. Then he feels an odd spraying sensation coming from the vine’s tip and a curious warm feeling spreads down his throat. And then it’s like…

He can actually feel his throat expand. Like the vine equivalent of a fucking numbing spray, it’s done something to relax one part of his body completely – while the rest of him is still as tense as a stretched wire.

The vine resumes its thrusts, and this time it slips down his throat easily. Merlin has no choice but to just take it, let the vine enjoy all the satisfaction it can get from the welcoming hole his mouth has involuntarily become.

The awful, awful thing is… he’s missed this. Not _this_ , specifically, he’s pretty sure he’s never had a previous encounter quite like this in his life. But a small shameful part of him misses being on his knees in some cramped dorm room, sucking cock like a pro, letting some jock grip his hair and fuck his face until he came untouched in his own pants.

He’d tried to leave all that behind when he’d joined G Squad. Even with the constant temptation of the extremely handsome and extremely arrogant Arthur Pendragon at his back. But he was a professional and work relationships were strictly frowned upon. Neither he nor the rest of the squadron had gotten any in a very long time.

But now…

It looked like K Squad had finally gotten some. And he’s about to get the same.

The increasingly frantic thrusts in his mouth take on a new level of wrong when he comes to realise that the vine that grabbed his cock earlier is lazily stroking it. Barely with enough pressure to even register, but Merlin is hypersensitive all over now and he can’t mistake the feeling.

And he’s getting hard.

He bucks his hips a little in a weak attempt to dislodge it but the vine seems to take that as some kind of encouragement, and wraps around tighter. He lets out a muffled groan just as the vine in his mouth speeds up even more, the end getting stickier and slippier by the second.

The vine around his cock tugs hard and in his shock he gags a little and this seems to be all the vine in his mouth needs. It stiffens and spurts, filling his mouth with sweet, warm liquid.

It should be disgusting and it is, _it is_. But when the vine finally retracts, Merlin doesn’t spit. He swallows it all down.

A few vines snake round to pat his chest a little, as though they’re pleased with him. And God, what the hell is this thing? Will it leave him alone now? Has it taken enough from him?

The answer to that question comes when he feels his legs being drawn slowly apart.

“Hell, no!” he cries out and that’s the exact moment that Arthur appears.

**Author's Note:**

> I wonder if the vines will like Arthur as much as they like Merlin...


End file.
